Stuck Like Glue
by RainThestral93
Summary: What do you get when you cross two bitter rivals, Professor Snape and a class full of bumbling potion novices in detention? Big trouble, that's what! Hermione and Malfoy are the ones to suffer the consequences of a poorly brewed potion - but will a inconvenient link between the duo cause them to tear each others' hair out, or will they finally get along?


Hermione struggled to push an unruly curl behind her ear as she balanced a stack of textbooks in the crook of one elbow, with her regulation leather shoulder bag slung over the opposite arm. She trotted down the corridor at as fast a pace as the weighty stack of paper in her arms would allow; heaven forbid she be late for detention with Snape.

She sighed. She could just imagine the great delight he'd have in deducting yet _more_points from Gryffindor at her lack of punctuality. Hermione was already mentally assaulting herself for having been stupid enough to receive detention with the greasy-haired Potions master in the first place. There was always a thin line in her relationship with him; he would tolerate so many wise crack answers and textbook spiels from Hermione before cracking and presenting her with detention. Distracted, she'd answered one question too many earlier that day, without being asked, and consequently found herself in her current predicament, hurrying through the dungeons in a desperate bid to arrive before the school clock chimed eight.

She found herself wishing that she did a bit more exercise by the time she arrived at the classroom, gasping for breath and her lungs burning in protest. She thumped her books down on the desk – she'd come straight from the library, where she had lost track of time – and looked at the clock. She had just about made it, thanks to her hastened pace, and had four minutes to spare.

Hermione thanked whichever celestial being it was that wizards were meant to believe in (Hermione had always been skeptical when it came to the validity of Merlin) that Snape hadn't yet arrived. If he had then he would have likely deducted points for running in the corridors, no doubt, the Gryffindor golden girl thought bitterly to herself.

The rest of the class was filing in gradually, not seeming quite as concerned about their time-keeping. From the looks of it the detention class was composed mainly of third years and older, and a few nervous looking first years too. No Slytherin green, Hermione noted bitterly, for Snape rarely gave out detention to members of his own house. If he did, they must have done something unjustifiably bad to warrant such a prestigious honour (if you could call a detention that).

Her eyes latched onto a flash of green,and her widened in shock, for surely she was mistaken. Snape hadn't awarded one of his house members a detention had he? There it was again. Hermione's eyes widened in horror as she realized she'd be sharing her detention with none other than Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince of pathetic insults and Snape's favourite pupil if ever there was one.

As far as she knew, Malfoy had never gotten into detention with Snape, as the Head of Slytherin frequently chose to look the other way whenever his favourite pupil broke the rules. Whatever ferret face had done, though, was none of her business as she pulled out a stool and promptly sat down at her desk.

The blonde haired boy in question was swinging on his stool, trying to look cool but Hermione suspected was trying hard to maintain his balance. His legs were crossed and up on the table in front of him, and along with the untucked shirt he looked like the epitome of bad boy and detention enthusiast. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Hermione shot what she hoped appeared to be an encouraging – rather than creepy – smile in the direction of some of the nervous younger students. She couldn't have attempted to quell their fears a moment too soon, for moments later, the potions master swept into the Dungeons, letting the door swing shut behind him as he did so, with an almighty bang.

"I have had enough of my time wasted by blithering imbeciles so far this term," Snape warned in his monotonous voice as he approached the front of the room, "And I can assure you that I have no intention of having any more of my time wasted. Today you will be creating the anti-potion for the body bind curse "_Petrificus Totalus_"." Some of the younger students were quite literally quaking in their seats. The teacher was well aware of the effect he had on his students and regularly revelled in their horror. He was just that kind of person.

"The potion in question is a ridiculously easy draught that even Neville Longbottom has the capability to brew," the potions master sneered, "Therefore I expect no mistakes to be made."

"I shall be in my office," Snape announced, "I expect Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy here should be of suitable skill level to oversee your efforts. Any mistakes you shall make are on their heads, and I warn you that you should not want to cross a conniving Slytherin like Draco, here, nor a quick-thinking Gryffindor like Miss Granger. They will be testing the potions for me at the end of the session so you better get them right, or else…" he threatened. Hermione would have blushed at the compliment, if it hadn't been for the menacing tone with which it was delivered.

"Does anyone know the ingredients of the anti-Potion?" Snape inquired curiously.

Out of habit, Hermione's hand shot straight up into the air.

"Miss Granger, may I remind you that the reason you are present is because of your inability to keep your mouth buttoned and your head down. Do you really think it's wise to continue to show of your random snippets of knowledge as you desire?"

Hermione blushed.

"Anyone else know the answer?" Snape asked the cowering students around the room. Nobody put forward an answer, and the potions master tutted. "No one? How disappointing. I will be back to check on your progress in two hours." And with that, he made to sweep out of the room, his black cloak billowing behind him.

He stopped at the door as if he'd had an afterthought. "Mr. Malfoy," Snape turned to address the blonde haired Slytherin who had righted his position when his head of house entered the room, out of his respect for the elder man. "I will not tolerate any students of my house missing classes. It shows a lack of respect and is out right silly. You may think you know everything, but I can assure you, you don't. If you want any hope of being able to pass your exams, I expect you to attend every class of mine in the future, and study _hard _to catch up. Perhaps ask Miss Granger for study tips; she always appears to be ridiculously over-prepared for my classes. Understood?"

Malfoy nodded meekly, and Hermione contained a laugh. It wasn't every day that Draco Malfoy got shouted at. Nor was it every day Professor Snape payed her a compliment - however backhandedly - perhaps he was having an off day, she mused.

"I expect the two of you to work together and put aside your differences for these two hours. You will pair the students up and supervise their brewing. You are _not_ allowed to create the draught for them. Everything you will need will be attainable in the Potions cupboard, which I trust, by now, you know the location of. That will be all."

It was pretty evident from the look currently splayed across Malfoy's features that he hadn't placed his bets on having to do any work during this detention. He clearly wasn't as exempt from the rules and he thought, Hermione snickered to herself after the menacing professor had left the room.

Once Snape had left the room, Hermione's usual confidence returned. "I think we should begin by going over the instructions just so everyone is clear what they have to do."

"Don't be stupid Granger," sneered Malfoy. "Every idiot knows that the counter-potion is one if the simplest in the world to brew."

"I'm well of that thank you, Malfoy," Hermione spat, "But in case you didn't hear; Snape plans on testing the potions on us. If I were you then I'd want to take every precaution to ensure that you and I escape this mess injury free. Comprendo?"

Malfoy rolled her eyes, but it was clear to see that she had a good point. Heaven forbid one of these bumbling first years made the potion wrong and hideously disfigured his beautiful features. It was obvious that Snape was not willing to give either of them an easy way out of this detention.

Hermione quickly read out the instructions. "Any one got any questions about any of that?" She was met with blank stares.

"Okay then what are you waiting for?" Malfoy chimed in. "Go and get the ingredients and get started, then."

There was a frantic push to get to the store cupboard first and gather the ingredients, for none of the students wanted to get on the bad side of either Malfoy or Hermione.

The group of students returned with haste, their arms piled high with bottles of ingredients. They set about following the instructions that Hermione had helpfully recounted for them; all the while Hermione and Malfoy throwing insults at every opportunity, spurring the students to get on and finish so they got out of the way of the battlefield between the Gryffindor bookworm and the blonde haired Slytherin.

Snape had clearly underestimated the potency of Malfoy and Hermione teaching a class; they had seemed to scare the class into a subdued silence, and everyone was working frantically in hope of abating their temporary Professors.

"I hope you've all brewed the potion correctly," Malfoy sneered. Hermione nudged him to make him shut up. They didn't need any encouragement to slip up, and Malfoy's threats _were_ rather off putting. "Don't touch me, you Mudblood," he snarled. Hermione rolled her eyes. Over the entire course of their school lives together, he _still _hadn't managed to come up with a more creative insult. It barely bothered her in the same way anymore, instead she found herself irritated at his lack of imagination.

Half an hour later and a flustered looking Potions master swept back into the Dungeon. He was a minute late, and Hermione suspected he was irritated by his own lack of time keeping. Lateness, even to the smallest degree, was one of the things that the teacher readily assigned detentions for, and had been Hermione's reason for hastening to be on time.

"I hope you've all brewed the draught correctly," he sneered as he neared the front of the room. "Wouldn't want anything _unfortunate _happening to Miss Granger or Mr Malfoy, now, would we." Hermione stopped herself from rolling her eyes – she didn't doubt that the Potions master would take great delight in being the reason for her untimely death. She wasn't quite so sure about what his motives for Malfoy, were, though.

"Bring your potions up to my desk now." Snape ordered, curtly. The students jumped to their feet at once, eager to get this torturous experience over and done with.

Both Malfoy and Hermione made their way over to the Professor, fearing the worst for it would take only a simple mistake for the whole make-up of the potion to be compromised. Hermione gulped.

"I will perform the _Petrificus Totalus _curse on you two, now, and let's hope that this potion will rectify you," Snape sneered, barely able to keep his glee of demonstrating on students off his face.

He flicked his wand lazily and all of a sudden Hermione and Malfoy were stood straight upright; stiff as boards with only their eyes able to dart around the room in apprehension.

Snape raised the first vials to their lips and within moments, they were returned to their usual, able-bodied selves. Hermione sighed a sigh of relief. That was one down, only a few more to go.

The potions master cast the restricting charm once more, and once again both Malfoy and Hermione found themselves locked into an upright stance, rather as if they were being made to wear a straightjacket. Their professor raised the second batch to their lips with a wicked smile – a sight rarely seen by the students of Hogwarts; Professor Snape, smiling – and Hermione felt the familiar substance trickle down her throat, taking mere moments to work. A second batch completed, the anxious ball writhing in her stomach had somewhat reduced, and she braced herself to encounter the unpleasant sensation once again as Snape cast the charm for a third time.

The liquid trickled down their throats for a third time; the same amber colour as all the other potions had. This one, however, had a somewhat bitter taste. It was only just discernible, but it tasted a bit like rust, and as Hermione found the curse to wear off her jaw, she grimaced as the familiar taste of blood filled her mouth – disgusting.

At a first glance, it seemed as if the final draught of the potion had worked, and Professor Snape looked almost disappointed that no misfortune had fallen the two students. But as Hermione made to step down from the steps next to Professor Snape, with the feeling of a retracting elastic band, she was pulled back to Malfoy, and she collided with the blonde haired boy with a loud "oomph" as she then proceeded to land right on top of him, much to her embarrassment.

"Eugh," Malfoy winced, for Hermione had landed atop him rather heavily. "Get off me you clumsy wench!" He ordered and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I _can't_," Hermione exclaimed as she struggled to pull herself off the blonde haired prince of Slytherin.

Snape, from where he stood, was watching events unfurl with a sense of bewilderment. Granger didn't usually strike him as the clumsy type; and he was certain that the potion had had some effect on the duo. He sniffed the empty vial. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and unfortunately he had mixed the vials up, and didn't know who was responsible for which batch. He would have to analyse it at a later date, he mused. The situation before him really was quite intriguing.

"Miss Granger I suggest you remove yourself from Mr. Malfoy's person at once," Snape announced dryly. "And I suggest you push your affections on him in private, I doubt it's something anyone in this room wishes to witness…"

Hermione turned over, eyes blazing with fury. "I'm not doing it deliberately," she spat, "But there seems to be some sort of bind between Malfoy and I."

"There's no link between you and me, don't kid yourself," snarled Malfoy, "You're just looking for a chance to touch me," and he shoved the Gryffindor roughly off him. She was shoved a good metre or so away from him but within moments Malfoy found himself pulled towards the bushy haired witch, and was suddenly astride her slender form.

"Oh that's rich coming from you," spat Hermione, "Because it seems to me that you're the one trying to touch me right now."

Draco looked up at Professor Snape in a state of utter confusion. "Professor?"

"It appears that one of these imbeciles is capable of screwing up even the most sensible of potions," Snape murmured, shooting death glares in the direction of the detention students. "I can't see what's wrong with the potion at a glance, I'll have to analyse it in my private quarters where I have the equipment to do so. I suggest for now, you help one another up."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. She'd take being turned into Millicent Bullstrode's cat _any _day over having to remain in physical contact with Malfoy at all times. How long would it take for Professor Snape to rectify the situation? Malfoy had nearly stopped breathing with the shock of Snape's admission. How dare Professor Snape be the reason he was subjected to such a torturous occasion? Just wait until his parents heard about this, he swore.

* * *

Professor Snape wouldn't be willing to admit it, but he was eagerly awaiting the end of this detention. He dismissed the mass of students, watching with distaste as Hermione and Malfoy struggled to work with one another to help each other up. It took the better part of fifteen minutes, as well as a series of traded insults. He would have to brew a headache draught later, the potions master deducted; for whenever Malfoy and Hermione came together in close confinement, they always seemed to have headache inducing spats.

When the duo was finally stood, he ordered them to walk to Professor McGonagall's office and explain the situation, whilst he went to analyse the vials with some of the residue in from the various batches.

Malfoy and Hermione gaped in sheer horror when Professor Snape instructed them to hold hands; for it was important that they remain in physical contact at all times, to avoid ending up in a tangled heap on the floor. They had to have their hands stuck together with a temporary sticking charm by a very irritated Potions teacher, out of their sheer unwillingness to co-operate.

For a minute Snape could only stare at his students in shock. He never thought he would live to see the day where Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger would be engaged in an intimate gesture of any sorts – and he was thankful to be in the knowledge that it was the unfortunate result of a potion mishap and not out of their own affections for one another.

They spent a further five minutes struggling to break their hands apart yet it wouldn't work. Snape perched on his desk, watching as the two inconvenienced students fought tooth and nail to break the bond he'd created between them to prevent further wrestling incidents on the floor.

He didn't have to wait long. It was as if both students exhausted their supplies of energy; their joined arm falling limply in between them. A look of utter defeat fell across both students faces, shortly replaced by an identical look of sheer horror.

"So good to have your attention," Professor Snape remarked dryly. Hermione had the respect to look embarrassed; Malfoy however looked severely pissed off.

"I should give you detention for the foul insults you've been hurling at one another," the Professor announced and Hermione's eyebrows shot up, "However I think that your current condition is punishment enough. Who knows, you might even learn to get on with one another if you're forced to spend some time together."

Both students mouth fell open in horror.

"Professor?" Asked Hermione timidly. Snape raised an eyebrow, indicating for her to continue. "How long are we going to be like this?"

Malfoy's head shot up from where he'd been intently studying the floor. He was desperate to hear the answer to Hermione's question. Both Hermione and Draco were squirming uneasily. Snape almost smiled at the obvious discomfort of his students, but then decided that even he wasn't quite that cruel. Draco looked positively green, as if the mere contact of his hand against a Gryffindor's was enough to make him hurl, and Hermione actually had her hand pressed to her mouth, as if she was going to vomit. He hoped she would wait with that until she had left his presence.

"I don't know," Professor Snape admitted. "But I can assure you that I will try and get it rectified as soon as possible."

Snape flicked his wand, cleaning up the workplaces – a job that he would usually take great delight in forcing the detention students to complete. "Now I suggest you go and explain things to Professor McGonagall. I suppose she'll make arrangements for you to share a chamber for the meantime, given that you seem to be unable to part from the others company." Malfoy shot Professor Snape daggers, and the teacher had to struggle to suppress a chuckle.

Then he swept out of the classroom in the direction of the his office, preparing to owl the headmaster and inform him about the incident. He had a bubbling suspicion that Professor Dumbledore was rather going to enjoy the tale that he planned on recounting; after all, the elderly headmaster was always trying to encourage school unity, especially between the rivaling houses Slytherin and Gryffindor. If the sight of Hermione Granger walking down a corridor holding hands with none other than Slytherin Prince Draco Malfoy wasn't the epitome of inter-house unity, then he didn't know what was. Perhaps Dumbledore would be so pleased that he would present the potion teacher with an advanced salary. He should be so lucky, he chuckled darkly to himself.

Severus Snape was sure that neither one of the conjoined students would run down the corridors proclaiming their predicament, but he suspected that rumours would be flying around the common rooms already, for he imagined the detention students wouldn't be able to keep their mouths shut. Stupid children, he tutted. The duo striding down the corridors in their disheveled uniforms (which they hadn't righted since their scrap on the floor) would certainly raise awkward questions that neither of the two students would be willing to answer. Professor Snape sighed, and swore to himself that he wouldn't test first year potion attempts on his students; Minerva would certainly have a thing or to say about the predicament her Gryffindor golden girl currently found herself in.

The potions master sighed and rested his head on his desk. It had been a long day. A very long day indeed.


End file.
